As you may recall (I had to write that SO many times in my shorthand class, for which I won an award, though it seems to be a dead art now), I haggled with a local bank on one of my snow days for the privilege of getting back my own money. Technically, half my money. More technically, the money that was my mom’s, which she left to me and my sister the ex-mayor’s wife.
Sis has been tied up at the hospital. Not literally tied up (how great would THAT be!), but figuratively tied up, what with caring for my niece’s 2-year-old daughter, Babe, who has now been in the hospital for two weeks with a tube in her lung for pneumonia. Babe is out of the woods, and Sis sent me a text asking about when I could give her the money.
“We leave early for the hospital, and get home late. I can meet you before school if that’s convenient. Maybe Thursday or Friday.”
“Either day is fine with me. I’ve been carrying that money around in my purse like Grandma at the casino.” Let the record show that our dad’s mom was noted for carrying a couple thousand dollars around with her at all times. Just in case. Must be that Great Depression mentality.
“That’s dangerous! One of those high school kids could have stolen that money out of your purse!”
“Well, it’s not MY money…” That’s what I wanted to text her. But I didn’t. We have not had a theft at our building for nigh on 15 years. Which speaks to the integrity of the student body. Or, perhaps, the camera surveillance system. What I really told her was that I had the money ready, whenever it was good for her to pick it up. She only lives five minutes from my work.
“The ex-mayor might be alone to pick it up. I’ve had trouble getting ready on time in the mornings.”
So…The Pony and I pulled into our parking spot, way down at the very end of the building (my choice, since faculty parking spots are not assigned) to wait for the ex-mayor. He was there within a few minutes.
“You can go on in, Pony. I’ll give him the money.”
“Okay…but this looks like a drug deal.”
That Pony! Sometimes, he pretends to be worldly.
Let the record show that I provided the ex-mayor with a copy of the bank form showing how much cash they forked over to me, and that I included the 33 cents in interest in the envelope with the money.
Carrying a purse containing $1750 around a high school is safer than Sis finding out I kept an extra penny of her inheritance.
I think you should cut a penny in half and come clean.ReplyDelete
I'm pretty sure it's against the law to mutilate U.S. coins. Even here in Missouri.Delete
So think twice before you put a penny on the railroad tracks, or in one of those flattening commemorative penny machines.
It's all right there, in Title 18, Chapter 17 of the U.S. Code. I'm sure you have a copy handy.
And who would you think your peers are? Clever writers who examine their lives with a snarky sense of humor? Tour guides who gouge their guidees every chance they get? Or soon-to-be retirees who flaunt their retirement every other day?ReplyDelete
On second thought, my peers would probably turn on me in a hot New York minute! Good thing I don't live in New York. Or New Jersey, where they drink dirty-water cocktails and cut pennies in half.Delete
Your sister is lucky to have such a scrupulously honest sister. As for that penny; I wouldn't want it since you can't buy anything with it.ReplyDelete
Please send Sis a registered letter extolling the luck she was blessed with concerning ME, her scrupulously honest sister. Better not send it postage due, though!Delete
That penny could buy 50 minutes worth of fun for a freshman boy in a Backroads classroom. Much to the dismay of the backs of other freshman boys' heads. And the consternation of Mrs. Val Thevictorian.
Still crazy after all these years.ReplyDelete
Indeed. I was hoping Sioux would pick up on that, but apparently she was too busy trying to get me convicted.Delete
I would vouch for you! Having been unable to even open up my blog roll, I feel like I am catching up with all my friends!ReplyDelete
Good to know! I will put your name down as a character witness.Delete
Which, contrary to the possible opinion of several folks above, is not somebody who's a real character, who happens to be called as a witness...
Couldn't you have forged a bank form with different numbers on it and made yourself a tidy one-cent profit?ReplyDelete
Sis could ferret out that forgery! Then what would become of me?Delete
Sis has been battling the Social Security Administration for one full year over some kind of supplemental insurance or Medicare premium that was automatically withdrawn from Mom's bank account the month after she passed away.
Let the record show that after going through the proper channels and getting no satisfaction, two congresspeople have been contacted so far...